


People You May Know

by hapakitsune



Category: The Social Network (2010)
Genre: Gen, School Reunion
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-10
Updated: 2015-05-10
Packaged: 2018-03-29 20:43:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,408
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3910000
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hapakitsune/pseuds/hapakitsune
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Mark's Facebook recommends that he be friends with Eduardo. He obsesses over this during his high school reunion.</p>
            </blockquote>





	People You May Know

**Author's Note:**

> I believe this idea first originated in a conversation with [](http://fledmusic.livejournal.com/profile)[fledmusic](http://fledmusic.livejournal.com/) and it has finally come to fruition. Chinese translation by [](http://ggshadow.livejournal.com/profile)[ggshadow](http://ggshadow.livejournal.com/) [here](http://www.mtslash.com/viewthread.php?tid=25682&page=1&extra=#pid672193).

Mark stares fixedly at the little box on the right of his Facebook home page. He has been staring at it for five minutes now, but it stubbornly has not changed no matter how many times he refreshes the page. The little box is titled **People You May Know** and there are two names underneath. One is some girl from somewhere in South Korea. The other is Eduardo.

For approximately the fiftieth time, he clicks the _view mutual friends_ button and scrolls through the list without really seeing the names. He knows Chris and Dustin are among them, along with some other people from Harvard. That is one of the main criteria for the friend suggestion code – mutual friends, schools, and employers all factor in. Things like _he sued you for six hundred million dollars and you gave him even more_ aren’t – can’t – be accounted for. Mark suspects this may be a flaw.

He brings it up later with Dustin, asking, “What if we suggest that someone friend her ex-husband or the woman who slept with her ex-husband?”

“Then this hypothetical woman of yours can click ignore,” says Dustin, frowning. “Is something going on, Mark?”

Mark shakes his head and returns to his computer. He opens up the code and stares at it, his eyes narrowed. He spends almost six hours fiddling with it, but no matter how hard he tries, Eduardo is always listed as one of the people Mark might know.

“If I friended Eduardo, do you think he would accept?” Mark asks Chris while they’re grabbing food in the cafeteria.

“Would you prefer the truth or a lie?” asks Chris. Mark stares at him and Chris says, “Right, it’s you. Then no.”

“I don’t think he would either,” Mark agrees, but the idea bothers him until he somehow ends up at his high school’s ten-year reunion in New Hampshire.

Mark hadn’t particularly wanted to go to his reunion, but one of the interns had intercepted the invitations (both written and Facebook) and put it into Mark’s schedule. By the time Mark realized what was going on, the flight was booked and no one was on Mark’s side.

“This is what you created Facebook for,” Dustin says unsympathetically. “To keep in touch with other people.”

“That’s what other people use it for,” Mark agrees.

“Mark, you are going to that reunion and you are going to listen while all of them fawn over your brilliance, and then you are going to come home with some new idea for the site,” Dustin says. “It happens every time you go away for any prolonged period of time.”

“I didn’t like high school,” Mark says uselessly.

“No one liked high school,” Dustin says, “but seriously, I want you to get the fuck out of Palo Alto for a few days.”

“Why?” asks Mark suspiciously.

“No reason, I just care about you,” Dustin very obviously lies. Mark eyes him, but Dustin has gotten really good at poker faces over the years, so Mark just sighs in frustration and agrees to go to the stupid reunion.

 

 

New Hampshire sucks. It always sucked, but it sucks more now that Mark has been living in California for a few years. He zips up his hoodie all the way to the collar and shoves his hands in his pockets, scowling. There’s a car waiting for him at the airport and he gets in, throwing his duffle bag into the trunk.

Mark has the rest of the afternoon to kill until the reunion starts, so he sits in his hotel room and pokes at the site code some more. He knows he could just ignore the suggestion, but that feels like cheating, somehow. He needs the site to _know_ that he and Eduardo aren’t supposed to be friends.

He takes the car to campus around five and follows the signs to registration. The girl working the desk beams at him and says, “Name?” in a chirpy voice. He points at his nametag and then just takes it when she starts looking for which one he meant.

He slaps the nametag on over his chest and goes to find the bar. He gets a few looks as he passes, but no one tries to talk to him, for which he is grateful. He asks for a beer and sits on one of the high chairs, drinking and ignoring everyone.

By the time seven rolls around, Mark is pleasantly buzzed, and he is feeling just loose enough to actually say hello to people. They nod, smiling awkwardly at him, and Mark smirks at their discomfort. He talks to some of the people from the fencing team, then has a shot of vodka.

Mark stares at his phone, scrolling until he finds the entry, _Saverin, Eduardo_. He had acquired the number mostly through trickery and partly through the fact that Dustin is a soft touch. His thumb hovers over the call button for a moment; then he presses it and raises the phone to his ear.

The phone rings twice before Eduardo picks up, sounding annoyingly alert. “Hello?” says Eduardo cautiously. “Who is this?”

“Wardo,” Mark says and even that one word sounds a little slurred. “I wanted to call you.”

“Mark?” asks Eduardo incredulously. “What – why are you calling me?”

“I’m at my high school reunion,” explains Mark. “It’s boring.”

Eduardo laughs, a little harshly. “And you thought you’d call me?”

“Facebook keeps telling me we should be friends,” Mark says morosely, sinking down against the wall. “Every time I log on, it tells me we should be friends.”

Eduardo is quiet on the other end. Eventually, he says in a rough voice, “You could just ignore it.”

“I don’t want to,” Mark says, which feels like more of an admission than it should.

"Why not?" asks Eduardo, and Mark hangs up on him.

He calls again a few minutes later and says, "Why aren't we friends?"

There is a stunned silence on the other end. Then Eduardo says, "You remember the part where you screwed me out of your company and then I sued you?"

"Of course I do," snaps Mark. "It's pretty hard to forget."

There's a pause before Eduardo says, "You're drunk, aren't you."

"Yes," Mark says belligerently.

"I'm going to hang up on you now," Eduardo announces and he does just that. Mark throws his phone on the bar and groans.

The bartender picks up the phone and says, "Honey, drunk-dialing at your high school reunion is never a good idea."

Mark looks up at her and scowls. "Give me my phone back."

"Nope," she says cheerfully, dropping the phone into her pocket. "Tonight is not the night to call your exes."

"He's not my ex," Mark says.

"Sure," the bartender says. "Of course he isn't. That's why you're calling him while you're hammered at your high school reunion."

"What's your name?" Mark asks her. "Because I am going to destroy your Facebook page."

"I don't use Facebook," she says, taking Mark's glass away. "I use Google plus."

Mark suddenly has the desire to break something. Instead, he gets up and glares at her. "Fine. I'll be back for my phone."

He wanders off, hoping to find someone he had been on fencing team with, but instead runs into his old roommate, James Liu. "Mark!" James says delightedly. "Hey man, how've you been?"

Mark scowls and says icily, "Hello." He had never liked James, who'd had a disturbing tendency of making jokes about Mark's inability to get laid and no compunctions about jerking off while Mark was in the room.

"So, Facebook, right?" James asks, which Mark takes as his cue to turn on his heel and stalk away. He had known that coming to this thing was a bad idea. He makes a mental note to hide Dustin's stash of skittles once he gets home.

He ends up sitting next to Ilana Gold, who had been the president of the school's GSA. She gives him a look, then passes over her beer. "You clearly need this more than I do," she says.

He nods and takes it. "Um, thank you," he manages.

"Wow," she says, "you've changed." She leans back in her seat, running a hand through her dark hair. "You know, I didn't think you'd actually turn up."

Mark frowns, taking a sip of beer. "What do you mean?"

She gestures around the room. "This really isn't your kind of thing, is it?"

"It's not," Mark agrees, "but there was a conspiracy. What about _you_?"

Ilana smirks slowly and says, "I wanted to show off my girlfriend." She nods to where an exceptionally good-looking woman is talking to a large, burly guy. "She's an attorney."

"Damn," Mark says and he lifts his bottle in a toast. He hadn't really known Ilana in high school other than as someone he considered worthy of conversation, but he feels a strange sort of kinship with her and he's always admired her forthrightness. "How did that happen?"

"I have no idea," Ilana says. "One day, she was in my dorm room and eating all of my jelly beans and then we were having sex in the private study rooms in the library." She smiles fondly. "Good times." She tilts her head. "You?"

Mark shrugs and drinks more beer. Ilana laughs and says, "I could set you up with someone here. Was there anyone you had a crush on in high school?"

"No," Mark says, and then he thinks, unexpectedly, about Eduardo, about how he'd always had a special smile just for Mark. He thinks about how Eduardo would fall asleep on Mark's bed or the sofa, his face smushed into his textbooks and his hair mussed.

And then he realizes why he had been so disoriented when Facebook had told him they should be friends.

"I'm going to go reclaim my phone," he tells Ilana, sliding the bottle back to her.

"All right," she says, looking bemused. He nods to her, then goes off to talk to the bartender.

"Hello again," the bartender says when she sees him.

"I need my phone back," he says.

"You're still drunk, honey, I'm not giving your phone back," the bartender says serenely.

"I just realized that I – might care for someone who I hurt a long time ago and if I'm sober I won't be able to talk to him," he said in a big rush.

"All right," says the bartender after a moment. She draws the phone out of her pocket and sets it down. "But remember: with great power comes great—"

"Yeah, yeah," mutters Mark, snatching his phone. He goes outside and paces around while the phone rings.

After three rings, Eduardo picks up and says, "Do you know there's a twelve hour time difference?"

"I think I was in love with you," Mark blurts out. "Back then. You know. At Harvard."

Eduardo starts laughing and doesn't stop for almost a full minute. He slows down after a moment when he realizes Mark isn't laughing and says hesitantly, "You're joking, aren't you?"

"I don't know," Mark says. "I just realized – I mean, I still. I think about you, Eduardo. Did you know that you're beautiful?"

Eduardo snorts and says, "God, you are so drunk."

"Maybe," agrees Mark, slumping against the wall of the building. "I think I'd like to have sex with you. You're so – you. I want to take off your suit and touch you and make you come and now I can't even be friends with you."

"Jesus, Mark," says Eduardo, sounding strained. "I'm at _work_."

"Then why are you answering your phone?" asks Mark, frowning.

" _Because you called_ ," Eduardo says, and he hangs up.

Mark scowls and hits call. "You hung up on me," he says irritably when Eduardo picks up.

"You're being a dick, Mark," Eduardo says. "What do you want?"

"I think," Mark says, "that I want to have sex with you."

"For fuck's sake, you are such a headcase," Eduardo snapped. "Call me when you're sober."

The line goes dead and Eduardo doesn't pick up no matter how many times Mark calls. Eventually, Mark slinks back inside and orders a cosmopolitan. He doesn't even bother being ashamed about it.

"I told you," the bartender says. She smirks at him. "So. How did it go?"

"Not good," Mark says. "What's your name? Would you have sex with me?"

"Oh, honey," the bartender says. She pats his hand condescendingly. "Give me your phone, I'll call you a taxi."

"I have a car service," Mark says.

"You should call it," the bartender says.

Mark does eventually get back to his hotel room, where he promptly passes out onto the bed. He awakes the next morning to his phone buzzing against his head, and he squints blearily at the screen to see that it's Chris. He answers and says, "Hello."

"How was the reunion?" asks Chris in that falsely pleasant tone he uses when he has ulterior motives. "Did you have fun?"

"Not really," Mark says, rubbing his aching head.

"Yeah," Chris says. "I thought not. You know who called me last night?"

Mark sighs heavily, knowing where this is going. "Eduardo called you."

"Yes he did," agrees Chris. "And you know _why_ he called me?"

Mark remains stubbornly silent for a moment before finally saying, with great reluctance, "Because I called him."

"Yes," Chris says. "Look, Mark, do you need to talk about anything?"

"No," Mark says grumpily.

"Are you sure?" Chris asks.

"I said I didn't have anything to talk about," Mark snaps. "Call me back later." He hangs up and goes to throw up.

Once he has completely emptied his stomach, he opens up his laptop and brings up his Facebook page. There, on the right side of the page, is Eduardo's picture. Mark scowls at it and slams his laptop shut. He gets up to go downstairs, then doubles back and grabs his computer. He goes down to the dining room and sits with his laptop and a cup of coffee. After a while, he gives up the fight and opens up his page again.

This time, he clicks onto Eduardo's profile and looks at the photo. Eduardo is smiling brightly at someone to the left of the camera person, his hair slightly mussed and his shirt open a button. Mark hovers his cursor over the "Add as Friend" button and pauses.

Then he says, "Oh, fuck it," and clicks.


End file.
